


What Doesn't Kill You

by orphan_account



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Consensual Sex, Eating Disorders, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, but then some are from deadpool so thats kinda normal, depressed!peter, heartbroken!Wade, i actually feel bad about it too, reluctant therapist!Tony, some are from peter so thats sad, wade's boxes are tormenting him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-05 09:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11574771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After Gwen’s death, Peter swore that he wouldn’t date anyone else. The loss was too much on him, and he wasn’t going to put himself in the position to be hurt again. All he wanted was to stop as much crime as possible and be alone when his thoughts got to be too much.But then he met Deadpool.The merc was everything Peter said that he didn’t want, but somehow he was also everything he needed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I read spideypool when I'm in bad moods so i guess this is a venting thing(?) but whatever enjoy this  
> TW: self harm and suicidal thoughts
> 
> {} = yellow box (deadpool's thoughts personified)  
> [] = white box (author's thoughts personified)

     Wade was craving some spidey-love, and he was damn well about to get it. Well, spidey didn’t actually _love_ him but the conversations they had were probably the closest he was going to get.

     “Hmm, do you think Spidey wants a quesarito or a nacho bellgrande?”

     { _Definitely_ quesarito,, It’s like two greasy snacks in one!}

     [It’s _Taco Bell_ , just get the boy a _taco_ ]

     “You don’t gotta be such a killjoy, whitey. Quesaritos are obviously the alicorns of mexican food.” Wade went off, having a conversation with the boxes that shouldn’t even be there since this is a fanfiction.

     Anyways, it happened to be the anniversary of Gwen’s death. Of course Peter never told Wade that it was a day that he’d rather spend alone, so he kicked in the living room window, landing the same way an olympic gymnast would. “Ha! On a scale of one to ten, tell how great that landing was. I’m in need of praise, whitey.”

     {Ten out of ten}

   [Are we not going to talk about how you broke Spiderman’s window…?]

     “You know you’re my least favorite box, right?”

     [I’m the thought box that represents the author. Of course I know that]

     Wade sighed and held the greasy bag close to his body as he peaked into Peter’s bedroom. “You up, Spidey? The only good chimichanga joint’s all the way in Manhattan, so I just got you somethin’ from Taco Bell.” ...there was no response.

     {Think he’s out on patrol?}

     “Nope. Peter wouldn’t be out this late. .” Wade felt a pang of worry set in his chest, not even using a nickname for his friend. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what.

     Wade set the bag of food down on the coffee table and pushed open the bedroom door, one hand on his gun holster. The typically spotless room was completely trashed with clothes all over the floor.

     {It looks just like home}

     “Shut up.” Wade shushed, wishing his thoughts were normal for once. It didn’t look like there was any kind of struggle in the room, but you could never be too careful. Most of all, there was no sign of Peter. The bed sheets were cold and all the lights were off, he hadn’t been in there for a while. “Fuckin’ hell, where is he?” Wade huffed, grasping at the sides of his mask. This was wrong. Peter was supposed to be here, Wade was supposed to have some fun, poke fun at the guy, fall asleep on his couch, and split before the sun came up. He wasn’t supposed to get _worried_ about the kid.

     [There’s more than two rooms in an apartment, dumbass. Check the bathroom]

     “The bathroom? Oh, yeah, of course. I was… totally about to do that.” Wade waved away the box, and was about to kick the bathroom door in for a burst of dramatic effect, but one little sound made his body freeze.

     There was… crying on the other side of the door?

     Oh, that _definitely_ breached the terms and conditions of their friendship.

     {Woah, woah, woah, are you telling me that we’re starting to _feel emotions_ for this brat? He’s… he’s just some kid that keeps us from shooting the people we _really_ want to shoot. He’s a _hero_ }

     “Yellow, stop being a bitch. Just give me a minute.” Wade rolled his eyes and knocked on the door. “Yo, Spidey— your favorite mercenary brought you some midnight snacks, wanna hang out?” He pressed his ear to the door, hearing a small gasp and the sobs quickly come to an end.

     “Not really in the mood tonight, Wade.” Peter said simply, wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand. Why did Wade have to come over tonight of all nights? Peter just wanted to fall into his thoughts, with no one to pull him out.

     He rolled his sleeve back down to his wrist, covering the traces of what he had been doing for the past hours.

     Wade sighed, wanting nothing more than to see Peter and make sure he was alright. “Fine, I’ll bite, but only if you eat with me. It’ll take twenty minutes at the most.”

     Peter pulled himself to his feet and took a deep breath, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like he had been to hell and back, metaphorically of course. More than anything, he wished that he could just stop existing. One more deep breath and he was as ready as he was going to get to hang out with Wade.

     The bathroom door opened with a strained squeak, and out came Wade’s beloved baby boy. Peter kept his head down while his hands fidgeted with anxiety. “Don’t turn the lights on. They’re too bright.” Wade followed him into the living room, where they sat on the far sides of the couch, neither of them willing to start up a conversation.

     Wade was halfway through his third taco, when Peter cleared his throat.

     “You know… I… thanks for this. I kinda forgot to eat today, so this is the best thing I’ve had in a while.”

     “No prob, Spidey. You know I’d do anything for you.” Wade smiled, shoving the rest of his taco in his mouth. He didn’t have a problem with Peter seeing his face when his mask was pulled up halfway, even if it did look like he lost a fight against a weed whacker.

     “Anything?”

     “I’m a man of my word— only for you though.”

     Peter sighed, letting his shoulders fall with his breath. “I know we have that agreement where we don’t ask about each other’s tragic backstory, but… I… have you ever regretted something so much that it eats at you from the inside even years after it happened?”

     {He’s trying to get into our head, Wade. This is what happens when you start liking people}

     [Tell him the truth. You’ll come off as less on an ass and more of a guy he’d like]

     Wade pulled the bottom of his mask back down and leaned on the back of the couch. “Uh… yeah. Everyone has their demons, Petey. It’s just that the vast majority of people like keeping their demons to themselves.”

     “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” Peter felt his heart sink. He was just fucking everything up all over again. That’s all he was good at, anyways. Everything was always his fau—

     “Have you ever heard of a program called Weapon X.”

     Peter shook his head.

     {WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, WADE}

     Even Wade felt his stomach turn. No one, and I mean _no one_ had heard him talk about Weapon X before. He knew he was getting too attached to the kid, but… he recognized that look in is eyes. It was cold and empty, the same way his were whenever his thoughts got to him. There was no way in hell he was going to let a ray of sunshine like Peter be snuffed out the same way Wade was. “Long, painful story short, a complete asswad named Francis thought it would be fun to experiment on people and turn them into weapons. I was young and dumb and kind of dying of cancer, and they promised a cure, so I signed up. A couple hundred torture sessions later, and out popped yours truly, insane, hideous, and unable to die. Wolverine popped out of there too, but we all know Logan hates me, so there’s really no reason to bring him up.”

     “Oh.” Peter said, pulling his legs into his body. “Sorry for asking.”

     “Eh, it’s fine. It’s kinda nice to get things off your chest once in a while. Now your turn. You’re completely out of it. Spill.”

     Peter let himself go for the first time in years and completely came clean of everything that happened with Gwen that night. How he tried saving her, but that turned out being the thing that killed her in the end. If he had just factored in basic physics, he would have remembered that a normal human’s body couldn’t handle a sudden change in pressure like that. He broke her spine by trying to save her. He’s the reason she’s dead.

  “Damn, that’s… that’s harsh.” The merc with a mouth was finally at a loss for words. “You do get that it wasn’t your fault though, right?”

     “That’s what everyone tells me.”

     “No, Peter, it _really_ wasn’t your fault.”

     Peter stood up and started back toward his bedroom. “I don’t feel like hearing this speech again, Wade. Goodnight.”

    “Peter, just listen.” Wade reached out, grabbing him by the wrist. Peter felt a jolt of pain shoot up his spine and quickly pulled away from his friend.

    Then there was dead silence.

     Wade knew exactly what happened, but he didn’t want to believe it. “Why does your arm hurt, Peter?”

     Peter stared at the ground, away from Wade. “...I got in a fight while on patrol.”

     “Then why were you in the bathroom when I got here?”

     Peter went silent.

    “Roll up your sleeve.”

     “No.”

     “Then tell me what you were doing in the fucking bathroom, Peter.”

     The boy tensed up and turned to look straight at Wade. “You already know what I was doing in there.”

     “I want to hear you say it. You don’t do things like that unless you can own up to it.” The seriousness of his demeanor was nearly enough to send Peter’s spidey sense off.

     “Fine, Wade. I was cutting myself, okay. Is that what you wanted to hear? You wanted to know just how fucked up I am, didn’t you. It doesn’t matter, anyways, it’ll heal by tomorrow.”

     To put it plainly, Wade was pissed off. Anger and sadness tended to be separated by a very thin line for him. In a swift motion, he unholstered his pistol and pointed it to his temple. “Do you want me to shoot myself?”

     Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. “Wha- What the fuck, Wade! Why would I want to see that?” His voice cracked as he spoke.

     “That’s my fucking point, Peter. You know that I can’t die, but that doesn’t mean that you want to see me with my brains blown out all over the walls. I know you’re a quick healer and a few cuts won’t do anything to you, but why would I want to see you cutting yourself? Have you ever thought about that?” Wade tossed his gun aside and grabbed Peter by the shoulders. “You can’t let your life be ruined by something that you couldn’t have stopped. It’s not your fault that the Goblin bitch used your girlfriend as bait for you. You tried to save her, but it didn’t work out. Things like that happen. Hell, my ex and I couldn’t decide if we wanted to marry or kill each other— I only realized which I wanted after she was gutted in front of me and told me that she loved me with her dying breath. You’re young, you’ve got a heart of gold, and an entire future ahead of you. No one deserves to carry this kind of weight alone, especially someone as amazing as you. You don’t have to go through this by yourself, okay?”

     Peter quietly nodded, eyes welling up with tears again. He wrapped himself around Wade’s warm body, sobbing and hiccupping into the red and black fabric.

     Wade ran a hand through Peter’s hair, wishing they could stay like that forever. Before either of them knew it, they were back on the couch, just talking about whatever came into their exhausted little minds. Peter hadn’t expected Wade to share anymore about his past, but the topic of girlfriends was still floating in the air, and Wade had a lot of stories to share about that. Not all of them were sad, and it became kind of like a bedtime story. Halfway through the one about when he and Death herself had sex, he realized that Peter had dozed off.

     Wade wanted more that anything to just stay the night, but he knew that it was better to take his leave. He carried Peter over back to the bedroom and gently tucked him in.

     {Don’t be a stranger, Wadey}

     Going against all better judgement he had, Wade lifted his mask and kissed Peter’s forehead. “Sleep tight, baby boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a slut for comments so please tell me what you think. There's a 90% chance I'm updating this anyways, so let's see if we can bring that up to a 100 (idk thought, i kinda have depression and a habit of leaving things unfinished)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade have what could only be described as a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that it's kinda funny that my name's MJ and I'm really into Spider-Man . Anyways, this is a way more light hearted chapter, so enjoy.

     “Wade— motherfucking— Wilson, I swear to god, I will burn your _entire_ Avengers action figure collection if you don’t get your ass back here and fix my fucking window. I don’t know what kind of apartment _you_ live in, but we can’t get away with knocking out an entire panel out of the fucking wall.” Peter paced back and forth in the living room, shouting into the receiving end of his cellphone. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Just… call me back, or something. Bye.” He fell back onto the sofa.

_How in the hell did I not realize the window last night. I must have really been out of it._

     Memories of the night before flooded through the hero’s mind, making his face flush bright red. No matter how many times he would deny it, there was no doubt about it. Peter Parker had a crush on Wade Wilson. Even the cushions smelled like him just little bit.

     The night Gwen died, he knew that he would never love any other girl as much as he loved her, but… loving guys was a completely different ballpark, right?

     Either way, there was doubt about the feels any longer. Wade was definitely the farthest thing from a therapist, but he still took time out of his night to stay with Peter and help him through something soul crushing.

 _He talked to me about Weapon X. That_ has _to mean something. I don’t think it’s an, “oh, Petey, I want to makeout with you” kind of something, but maybe a “yeah, I trust you as a person” kind._

     “Nope!” Peter shouted, bolting upright. He was _not_ about to be sucked back into the mindset of a high school kid working up the courage to ask his crush to the prom. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and you know what that meant?

     That meant Tony Stark.

//

     Sleep deprived and running on his fifth cup of coffee, the last thing Tony expected to find in his workroom was something that looked like a scene out of the Exorcist.

    “...Why is there a teenager sitting on my ceiling?”

     “I’m literally twenty years old, Tony.” Peter corrected, dropping down to his feet.

     Tony brushed off the correction and took a seat on one of his chairs, emptying a flask into his coffee. “You’re not really the type to just drop in and say hi, so you obviously want something.” He took a sip of his alcohol-spiked-caffeine and sighed delightfully. “What can I help you with, kid?”

     Peter scratched the back of his head, trying to find the words. “Uh… what do you about Deadpool?” Oh, that was definitely a breach of their non-official friendship agreement, but he didn’t really care anymore.

     “Wilson— comma— Wade. Twenty seven year old merc with no moral compass and a healing factor fast enough to leave Quicksilver in its dust.”

     “Yeah, I know that much but, what’s he _like_?”

     When Tony ran on two hours of sleep like that, his mind could connect two and two together within a split second. His common sense, on the other hand, was completely thrown out the window when he was tired, but that was another story for another day. “Things have been heating up in the red spandex part of town, haven’t they?”

     Peter felt his face flush red again. “W-what makes you think that? I’m just asking for… a friend?”

     “God, are you sure that you aren’t in high school? You sound like you’re trying to ask a senior to the spring formal. Actually, don’t answer that. If you were in high school, then I would really hope that you didn’t have a crush on a guy who’s nearly thirty.”

     Peter pulled up a chair and buried his face into his palms. “I’m hopeless, aren’t I?”

     “You want my honest opinion?”

     “No.” Peter went quiet for a moment. “Wait, yes! _Please_.”

     Tony leaned back in his seat and downed the rest of his drink. “Since the two of you _hanging out_ (he said with accompanied air quotes), there’s been a significant decrease in the amount of bodies found in alleyways. Correlation without causation aside, I think you kinda balance him out— you know, bring the guy back down to Earth. I don’t know what the two of you have been doing— and I _really_ don’t want to know the details, but keep it up and I could see the two of you being a kind of cute couple. Don’t tell him I said that though.”

     Peter felt a slight flutter of hope in his chest. Tony Stark himself said that he and Wade would be a cute couple. That _had_ to meant there was at least a chance for them. “Do you… think he likes me?”

     “You see, questions like that are exactly why I think you’re still in high school.” Tony said, a smirk growing on his face. “But, yeah, definitely. Wade was here an hour ago, asking the exact same things about you, even with the same high schooler persona.”

     Whether the knot in Peter’s stomach was from nerves or sheer joy, he didn’t really care. Wade— freaking— Wilson liked _him_. There weren’t very many sane people out there who actually liked Spider-Man. Well, Wade was far from sane, but it didn’t change the fact that Peter felt amazing.

//

     3 a.m. came around again, and Peter wasn’t in bed again. But instead of having a depressive episode this time, he was fiddling around with his web shooters while some movie played on the tv. It was something about a playboy bat guy having it out for this really buff alien guy who was apparently made of steel— it sounded boring, so Peter just tuned most of it out and focused on this work.

     There was a knock at the… window?

     A red leathery hand tapped at the glass out of pure courtesy before Wade somehow climbed inside of the apartment.

     Peter just watched in awe, a million questions coming to his mind. “How did yo— What did yo—  I live on the fourth floor and there isn’t even a fire escape outside that window.”

     Wade pressed a gloved finger to Peter’s lips, effectively shushing him and nearly making the kid’s face as red as his costume. “Your friendly neighborhood mercenary is here with booze and a peace treaty.”

     {Is that what passes as romance these days?}

     “Shh, yellow, I’m trying to be a gentleman.” Wade said, setting down a bottle of tequila on the coffee table.

     Peter laughed lightly, making space for Wade on the couch. “Thanks, Wade. You’re always… interesting company, but you do know that I’m not old enough to drink yet, right?”

     “Are you over eighteen?”

     “I’m twenty.”

     “Well, I won’t tell if you won’t. We got a deal?” His mask did nothing to hide his smug grin, and there was no way Peter could say no to a face like that.

     He sighed, giving into peer pressure before smiling back at his friend. “Deal.’

     The two of them curled up on the couch and decided to try and watch whatever the hell the movie on the tv was. But _shit_ it was boring. Or at least it was until Wade had the genius idea to turn it into a drinking game.

     Peter agreed to take a shot every time there was a religious allusion (which was a lot), while Wade took one whenever the bat guy grunted (which was also a lot). By the time the movie finished, both of them were _well_ intoxicated. Wade also had the "brilliant" idea to duct tape Peter's window back into place, but that's a problem for another day.

     “That was such a half assed ending, Petey, right? _Please_ tell me you didn’t enjoy this trainwreck of a film.” Wade asked, nudging Peter with the hand around his waist. Needless to say, the tequila did its job of loosening the two up.

     Peter laid with his head of Wade’s shoulder, happily breathing in the merc’s scent. “Honestly, I was only watching so I could take another shot.”

     “See, that’s exactly why I brought the tequila. We’ve got that Mexican food vibe going on in here, and I was _not_ about to ruin that by bringing in some fucking whiskey!” Wade drunkenly rambled, chugging the remainders of the bottle. Peter was so warm, especially under his shirt. Wade had taken off his gloves so long ago, it just felt natural to touch Peter like that. The way the younger would press against wherever Wade’s hands lingered— it was heaven.

     He wished he could live in that feeling.

     Peter let his eyes close as he laid against Wade, tracing invisible circles on his suit. “Hey, Wade.”

     “Yeah, baby boy?”

     “Can you kiss me?”

     “I thought you’d never ask.” Wade said lifting his mask up to his nose. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to Peter’s before locking lips for what felt like forever.

     Peter felt the butterflies in his stomach completely disappear as he kissed Wade. He felt… lighter than air— like nothing could ever bring him down from that feeling.

     He wanted to live in that feeling forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I hope that was somehow cute. I'm not really well versed in the "romance" part of writing, but I am pretty great at the angst, so be prepared for the next couple chapters. Please comment and give me ideas, so I can build up my motivation for this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade are faced with morning after regrets.

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry._

   The regrets repeated through his head over and over again.

_How could you be so heartless?_

       Sweat beaded at his forehead as his heart thumped in his chest.

 _She_ trusted _you!_

     He couldn’t suppress the feeling anymore. Peter leaped out of bed and ran into the bathroom, quickly blinking away the black dots forming in his vision. He shut the door before keeling over the toilet and vomiting the remains of the day’s meal into the toilet.

     Peter had never felt so… ashamed of himself before. “I’m so disgusting… I-I can’t do this.” He cried softly, before the dry heaving took away his breath again. He wanted to scream and cry, but no matter how bad he felt, he had one thing going through his head.

     Don’t wake Wade up.

     “I’m fucking repulsive. How could I do that?” His eyes strained as he failed to fight back the hot tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

     Just on the other side of that door, Wade was contend, asleep, and satisfied, and Peter was not about to ruin that for him. If he knew that Peter got sick the the very moment he sobered up, there was no doubt that Wade would get upset with him.

     But the issue wasn’t that he just had sex with Wade— it was that he didn’t have it with Gwen.

     Peter took a few deep breaths before reaching for his cell phone with shaky hands and calling the first one on speed dial. “H-hey, Tony. No, nothing’s wrong. I just… do you think I could stay over for a couple days?”

//

     For people with killer healing factors, alcohol didn’t tend to stay in their system for too long. For example, Wade finished that bottle of tequila nearly an hour and a half ago, but he had been completely sober for the past thirty minutes.

     He had never been the type to fall asleep as soon as the sexy times hit their… climax— he was more of a pillow talking kind of guy. But Peter seemed exhausted out of his mind, so Wade opted for cuddling and listening to the sound of Peter sleeping.

     {You know, I would have thought Petey would be the type to snore. But a cute snore. Like a little lawnmower}

     [I don’t really think lawnmowers are a good comparison, besides, a boy like him is way too gorgeous to snore]

     {Then we probably sound like a fucking jackhammer while we sleep}

     [Maybe that’s why we always leave before Petey wakes up.]

     “Shut. Up.” Wade said softly, wanting the boxes to stop talking, but not wanting to wake up his boyfriend.

     {Boyfriend? So having sex all of a sudden means that you’re dating? Then I guess we’re dating a _lot_ of prostitutes over in Queens.}

     Wade felt a familiar feeling of anxiety creeping into his gut. “No… we… Peter’s different. H-He wanted to do this.”

     [He was _drunk_ , Wade]

     {Sounds pretty pathetic that the only people that’ll have sex with us are the ones lacking common sense}

     [I bet he’ll be sick the moment he sobers up.]

     {Seeing an ugly piece of shit like you first thing in the morning, I’d just shoot myself on the spot}

     Wade pinched his eyes together, begging for the boxes to leave him alone. They always ruined everything good… but maybe they _were_ right. Why would someone as amazing as Peter want to be with a fuck up like Wade? Spider-Man and Deadpool were nothing alike.

     When Peter woke up with a start and bolted it to the bathroom, Wade felt that anxiety coming back.

     And when he heard the things Peter was saying, he knew the boxes were right.

_“...so disgusting.”_

_“I can’t do this.”_

_“ ...fucking repulsive.”_

     Wade couldn’t hear perfectly through the door, but it was enough.

     {Ha! I told you! He thinks you're repulsive!}

     Wade felt a pain in his heart like never before. He wasted no time in grabbing his things and leaving through the window, being careful not to knock it out of place again— he didn’t need Peter having another reason to hate him.

     He wanted to rip his heart out of his chest, and when he got home, he did exactly that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAaaaah this is a really short chapter, but I'm really pumped to write the next one, so it really might be put out in the next few hours!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade gets in his own head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to change the rating to explicit after writing this chapter, so have fun with that you sinners

     The night Gwen Stacy died, Peter was only sixteen. He wanted to ask her to prom and kiss her and hold hands. Sex seemed like something for the adults, but he thought about it sometimes— nearly every high schooler thought about what it would be like to have sex with their significant other. Back then, it felt like they had all the time in the world. They were just kids.

     And then she fell.

     Peter’s heart was beating so fast and so loud, he couldn’t hear anything around him. There was no time to think. No time to panic. If he didn’t catch her, there would be no more holding hands or sneaking kisses between classes. It would just be him… all alone.

      Would things have been different if he let her hit the water? What if he caught her by the foot instead of the waist? Would she still have been beside him years later?

     “...eter!”

     What if—

     “Peter, wake up!” Tony yelled, shaking the boy awake.

     Peter jolted upright with a strangled gasp, his chest straining for air. He was in his room at Stark Tower. Technically, the entire fourteenth floor was his to enjoy, but he tended to stay in the bedroom as much as possible.

     Tony exhaled in relief. “So… are you gonna tell me what’s eating at you or am I gonna have to invite your ex-boyfriend over for a little talk?”

     Peter felt his stomach turn over again. “I swear I’m fine.”

     “You’ve been here for the past two weeks, Pete. You don’t talk to anyone, you have night terrors, and you haven’t even come down to the lab to get in my way yet. Something’s definitely wrong. Now. Spill.”

     Peter opened his mouth to argue, but sighed in submission. “…Wade and I kind of… had sex.”

     Tony nearly choked on his coffee. “No details, please _god_ no details.”

     “Lucky for you, I can barely remember it. I’m not sure if I want to either.”

     Tony’s face fell as he suddenly took a more serious tone. “It _was_ consensual, wasn’t it?”

     “Huh?” Peter looked up from his hands. “Yeah. One hundred percent. Wade… he wouldn’t do that. I _wanted_ to have sex with him and it was _really_ fun—”

     “Too much information.”

     “Sorry— it’s just… I don’t think I was mentally prepared for it. I can’t have Wade be a replacement for Gwen. It’s… it’s not fair to him.”

     “So _that’s_ the problem.” Tony said, nearly laughing to himself. “You’re falling for your rebound.”

     Peter blinked absently at his friend. “My… what?”

     “God, if you were anymore clueless, I’d think you were a middle schooler. A rebound— you know, ‘the only way to get over someone is to get under someone else’? Wade’s your rebound, but now you’ve actually got a bit of a relationship with him and you’re panicking because you want to start a new book instead of writing a sequel. Understand?”

     “Yeah… I think so.”

//

     It had been a week since Wade ran out on Peter. Every night since then, he replayed their time together in his head, just hoping that Peter would call him.

     They laid on the couch together, just having finished watching Batman v Superman— aka a long disappointment.

     The words rolled off Peter’s tongue as he spoke. “Can you... kiss me.”

     “I thought you’d never ask.” Wade’s cold heart practically grew three sizes, and so did the bulge in his pants. Their innocent kiss quickly heated up and their hands were all over each other.

     Wade trailed his hands down Peter’s back, stopping at the waistband of his pants. “Tell me what you want and I’ll do nothing less, nothing more.” He kissed the boy’s neck, gently sucking on the skin before nibbling at his ear. “I’m a man of consent, baby boy.”

     An electric shiver shot up Peter’s spine as Wade’s words brushed against his ear. “Call me that again and I’ll do _anything_ you want.”

     “Anything for you, _babyboy_.” A smirk was hidden by Wade’s mask as he picked Peter up bridal style and carried him into the bedroom.

     They were moving fast. The moment Wade tossed Peter onto the bed, all clothes were off in a matter of seconds, save for Wade’s mask. He… he wasn’t ready for that to come off just yet.

     One minute, they’re showering each other in kisses in all the right places. The next, Peter was digging his fingertips into the sides of the bed as Wade dragged his tongue up his shaft. A couple minutes later and Peter was laid on his stomach, moaning like a pornstar while Wade thrusted into him, making sure to rub against his prostate.

     The night went _amazing_ , but Wade couldn’t help but notice the empty feeling in his chest. Yeah, he did rip his heart out of his chest as soon as he got back that night, but that really only took about half an hour to heal back. This feeling was more… emotional. He hated it.

     Maybe Peter wouldn’t have freaked out if Wade kept his clothes on. Maybe Peter was just sick after drinking so much, and that’s why he ran to the bathroom.

     {That doesn't explain why he said the things that he did, though. Face it, Wadey. We're _disgusting._ You know it and now Peter does too.}

     Wade buried his face in his hands, crying silent sobs into the fabric of his gloves.

     {Look how pathetic you are. You used to be so much more than this. You're _deadpool_. Are you really going to let yourself be heartbroken over some kid with a moral compass?}

    “I don't know yellow, it seems like a pretty decent option. Cry, shoot myself, heal, repeat. It's worked out so far.”

     [Shut up. You're miserable and you know it, Wade.]

     “Yeah, I guess I am. But what am I supposed to do? I haven't felt broken like this in like… forever.”

     {We’ll do what we did last time}

     [And what exactly is that, yellow?]

     {We're gonna kill people and we're gonna fucking like it}

     The sudden pounding at the door send a wave of reality back through Wade’s mind, temporarily silencing the boxes. Did being dead count as sleeping? Because if not, then he hadn't slept in a week. He was weak, he was awake, you'd never seen a bastard merc more in need of a break.

     “What the fuck do you… want?” He asked, his voice softening as he locked eyes with the boy standing just outside of his apartment. It was Peter. Of fucking course it was Peter. With his soft brown hair and deep muddy eyes.

     “Wade.” The boy sighed delightfully at the sight of the merc.

     {It's because you actually have clothes on this time}

     “Peter.” He said, feeling his heart ache at the sound of his name. No, no, _no_ ! He wasn’t about to sit back and let that gorgeous pale faced brunette toy with his emotions. _Wade_ was in control. Peter was at _his_ mercy. “Why are you here?”

     The boy furrowed his brow at the merc. He could tell that something was… off about him. “I just came to talk, Wade… Can I come inside?”

     {Don’t give him the upper hand.}

     “We can talk out here.” Wade said simply, thankful that his mask hid most emotion in his face. He looked like shit and he knew.

     Peter never had to be invited inside Wade’s apartment before. Even more, Wade had never refused to let him in. “…is everything alright? If your scars are hurting today, I can just come back tomorrow.”

     “‘Is everything alright’?” Wade scoffed, mocking Peter’s voice. “What do you care? I’m just _disgusting_ and _repulsive_.”

     “Wha— Why would you say that?”

     “Your words, not mine, baby boy. Booze brings out people’s true colors, and let’s just say that yours were a bit hurtful.”

     Peter felt his heart stop in his chest. Wade had heard him that night. And he thought he was talking about _him_. “No, I didn’t mean—”

     “What? You didn’t mean for me to hear you? That’s not really a comforting thought.”

     “Wade, no, listen! I—”

     “No, _you_ listen, Peter. I am sick and tired of people looking at me like I’m some sort of monster. I thought that _you_ of all people would be different, but no— you’re just the rest of them, except you were too much of a coward to tell me to my face.”

     Peter clenched his fists together as he stared at his feet, tears welling up in his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Peter was supposed to come over and tell Wade that he was ready to turn over a new leaf, and then they would kiss without needing the alcohol to loosen them up. Everything was supposed to work out.

     “Bye, Peter.” Wade said softly, moving to shut the door.

     Peter stopped the door with his foot, and stared into the white’s of Wade’s mask. “Fuck you, Wilson.” He said, his voice trembling with tears. “I came here to tell you that I was ready for a relationship, but now I’m not sure if I even want one with you anymore.”

     “It took you a week of ignoring me to realize that you missed me? Wow, man, thanks. I wished I was with you every second we were apart, but I guess that’s to be expected from someone like you.”

     “WELL MAYBE IF YOU JUST STOPPED BEING AN ASS AND LET ME TALK, THEN WE WOULDN’T EVEN BE IN THIS MESS!” Peter shouted, his eyes burning with pain. “We’re supposed to be there for each other, not be at each other’s throats. I wanted you to be my—"

     “Boyfriend? Is that what you mean to say? I can’t be with people who lie to me, so I think that ship has sailed.”

     Peter felt his body shake as he hiccuped through the tears. Everything was crashing down around him again. It was the same feeling that sat in his stomach when… when Gwen fell. “Fine.” He said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “Whenever you decide that you can stand to talk to me again, please do.”

     “I wouldn’t count on that if I were you, Parker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished writing this the exact moment I woke up, so shoutout to Irisfield for bringing me to literal tears by telling me that this is just like that one scene in Shrek. That is 100% the highest compliment I could ever get.
> 
> Anyways, I hope this chapter broke your heart, and I hope you're addicted to the pain like I am


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has their own ways of coping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like forever since I last updated, but it's really just been a week. Summer fucks with my understanding of time.
> 
> TW: suicidal themes, self harm, eating disorders

     When Wade shut the door on Peter, he felt something in him… break. What kind of monster was he? He just stood and watched as the tears ran down the hero’s face, not even trying to comfort him. Every part of his body was screaming at him to reach out, wipe his tears away, and never let him go.

     “I bet he hates me.”

     {Don’t forget our rules, Wadey. No falling in love with people who can’t stand looking at us.}

     “Nobody can stand looking at me.”

     [ _Exactly_ ]

     “Fuck off,” Wade said, pressing his forehead against the cold metal of the door. Was Peter still out there, just sobbing silently? Maybe he could— no, it was too late for that. It was too late to want Peter with him. What’s in the past is in the past.

     Their friendship was gone, and so were the invisible traces of what could have been a romance. He lost the only person that could tolerate him— no, the only person who actually liked spending time with him.

     [The kid wanted to ask _you_ out, and you made him _cry_. Are you proud of yourself?]

     “I was just listening to yellow box.”

     [When has yellow box ever been right?]

     {Hey! I’m the voice of reason!}

     [No, _I’m_ the voice of reason. _You’re_ the voice of impulse.}

     {Oh, _yeah_. Wow, Wade, you really should have ignored what I was saying. Now you’re just as sad and lonely as you were before you met Peter.}

     [Remember how bad of a place Peter was in, that one night. Just think about how he feels now?]

     “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!”

     {You broke his heart, Wade. If I were you— which I kind of am— I’d only blame myself if the kid did something destructive. This is _All. Your. Fault._ }

     Wade’s hands pulled at his mask, shredding it into pieces. “STOP TORMENTING ME, JUST LET ME THINK! PLease, please…”

     {Wow, over dramatic much?}

     [I know right. No wonder Peter think’s you're a monster.]

     A single gunshot echoed through the room. At least the boxes would be quiet for a while.

//

     When Peter had the door shut on him, something inside him completely broke. Whether it was his heart, his soul, or his will to live— it didn’t really matter. It took him a week to stop the initial heartache from the… incident. He felt completely and utterly empty each night. There was no idiot sitting next to him on the couch and laughing over cartoons with him anymore. No midnight junk food runs. No one to keep him company. Instead, every night was filled to the brim with shaky tears, vomit, and hundreds of regrets.

_What if I didn’t wait so long before reaching out to Wade?_

_I shouldn’t have run out on him like that._

_I shouldn’t have asked him to kiss me that night._

     It was absolute torture.

    But then again, so was knowing that Wade hated him.

     Tony called a few times to check if he was alright, but each call was met with the same voicemail message. Peter just wanted to be alone for a while, to think everything through and watch new scars stitch themselves up overnight.

     When he finally felt up to leaving his apartment, he turned up at the tower like nothing had even happened. He smiled, he laughed, but there was a darkness clouding his eyes that Tony noticed almost immediately.

     They were messing with thing down in Tony’s lab when he decided to press the matter.

     “So, Pete,” Tony started, grabbing the kid’s attention. “What were you up to when you were off the grid?”

     Peter shrugged and brushed off the question. “Nothing much. I can’t remember the last time I slept for longer than a couple hours, so it was a lot of that.”

     “You sure that’s all that happened? You keep dazing off when people aren’t looking.”

     “Maybe I just daze off whenever you’re looking.”

     “Smart ass.” Tony laughed a bit and spun in his chair to get a better look at the hero. “Really though, you conveniently take a break away from everyone after visiting Wilson in whatever sketchy neighborhood he lives in. Also, stop messing with your damned web shooters— I fixed them like a month ago, so they should be perfect.”

     “Don’t be so full of yourself, Tony.”

     “Being full of myself if what I’m best at. That and being a genius, but that’s not the point. What I’m saying is that I’m great, and I can tell something’s up, so spill.’

     Peter swallowed the anxiety building up in his throat. “He wasn’t there.” _Lies._ “I just went home and haven’t heard from him since. He’s probably on a job or something.”

     Tony looked like he knew everything just said was absolute shit, and _oh_ , how he was right. He wasn’t just going to let the kid lie to him like that though “Whatever you say, Pete. You’re not the type to lie, so I won’t press anymore.”

 _Oh god. Does he know I’m lying?_ Peter’s stomach nearly did a backflip. _I’m a horrible person— what kind of person lies to their friends like that?_

     “You’re zoning out again.”

     Peter quickly buried his thoughts in his head and shoved his things into his bag. “You know, I should, uh, probably be getting home.”

     “C’mon, kid. Just stay over a bit longer. You can’t blame me for wanting to hang out with my genius protégé.”

     Peter darted for the elevator, hoping to reach it before Tony did, but not everything goes as planned. “I’m… trying to fix my sleep schedule. I’ve _really_ got to go.”

     “It’s literally only seven.”

     “I’d stay if I could, Tony, but I have stuff to do.”

     “ _Fine_.” Tony groaned, letting the kid pass. “At least stop by the kitchen and grab something to go. Don’t think I haven’t been watching you, kid— you haven’t eaten all day.”

     “I… I’m not really hungry.”

     Oh, something was _definitely_ wrong.

     Honestly, Peter was so hungry it hurt. Spending a week locked inside an apartment that really only had a bottle of ketchup in the fridge probably wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, so Peter thought it would be a nice change to visit the tower, say hi to his friends, and maybe get a bit to eat, but when he got there, he just… didn’t feel up to it— his stomach nearly lurched when he looked at food, but Peter didn’t think much of it— less food means less things to throw up when you feel sick, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can -totally- explain why this took me so long to write (and why it's kinda short)  
> I got caught up in the Loki fandom and couldn't stop reading fics about him, and then every time I would try to write a new chapter I would just sit and think "wow I should really start a new fic about Loki", which is something I should 100% actually do  
> But yeah  
> That's all that happened  
> I apologize for the way Wade's boxes treat him


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward situations and more misunderstandings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohmygodohmygodomhygod I'm so happy that I finished writing this fucking chapter. It took a week and me writing a random spideypool angst thing to get back into the hang of things.  
> But I'm alive! I'm sorry that it took so long to update! I got *really* into reading angst fics and completely forgot to continue writing my own. But I'm back and I have the next few chapters planned out so there shouldn't be another three week gap between updates again.

     Wade Winston Wilson. The self proclaimed “merc with a mouth”. The man who had spent the past weeks being completely and utterly heartbroken.

     Long story short, he wasn’t doing good. Well, Wade hadn’t really used “good” as an adjective for himself in quite a few years, but he was farther than “good” than he usually was.

     {Wow, it feels good to be back! That was— what— the seventh time you shot yourself this week? _And_ it’s only Tuesday! Sounds like this week is off to a _great_ start.}

     Wade only sighed and pulled himself back to his feet, ignoring the blood spatter all over the walls. It had nearly been a month since the last time he saw Peter, and it felt like a piece of him was dying every moment they spent apart. He had to be absolutely insane for still wanting to be with the person who pretty much ripped his heart out and stomped on it in front of his eyes.

     [Sounds like Stockholm Syndrome. You really _are_ fucked up, aren’t you Wade?]

     {Does that mean we’d want to fuck Peter even if he had us chained u— yes, yep, one hundred percent yes please. _‘Mr Parker will see you now’_.}

     “I’ve only been alive for like five minutes, and the two of you are _really_ making want to shoot myself again.” Wade said, rubbing the side of his head. Yep— the gunshot wound was completely healed— but he did kinda wish that he took off his mask before killing himself the last time. Now there was a hole dried with blood in it and he’d have to wash and resew it again.

     {If you’re gonna off yourself again, you should totally rip your own heart out and try to stomp on it before dying— like a Shakespearian thing.}

     Wade rolled his eyes and opted for stapling his mask back together— it wasn’t perfect, but at least it worked. That was one out of many, _many_ problems solved, now he just had to figure out how to get over Peter.

     {Well, you what they say— the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else?}

     “Yeah, that doesn’t really help if he’s the only person I want to get under.”

     {What about someone close to him? It could kinda be like payback for him crushing your heart like a grape.}

//

     “Tony, please _god_ go take a shower. Even Thor refuses to be in the same room as you, and he’s _Thor_ , for crying out loud.”

     The billionaire shrugged and agreed without much arguing. Bickering with Steve was typically the highlight of his day, but he wasn’t feeling too up to it that day. Just the night before, Peter had dropped in for a visit, which wasn’t weird, except for the fact that he was acting… off. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what was wrong, but it was something.

     Tony staggered up to his bedroom, silently promising himself that he’d try to sleep more often, but the sight that greeted him was more than enough to keep him up for nearly a week. “…I _swear_ I haven’t been awake long enough to start hallucinating.”

     Laid out on his bed was Deadpool, clad in a maid outfit just put over his usual suit. “It’s your lucky day, Mr Stark. You’ve won a valid-only-know ticket to sleeping with all _this_.” He said, gesturing down his body with a feather duster.

     Tony just blinked absently at the merc before staring down at the cup of coffee in his hands. “Either, Clint spiked this with something or I’m having a lucid nightmare. Not too sure which is the worse outcome, though.”

     “Oh, _c’mon_ Tony. The entire east coast knows that you’ve sucked and fucked nearly every poor morsel that asked for it.”

     “Yeah, so? It’s kinda weird if I slept with the guy my self-proclaimed son is head over heels for. And— no offense, man, but I think I’d rather die than sleep with you.”

     “None taken.” Wade felt his chest tense for a moment. “Like father like son, I guess.” He said under his breath.

     Tony really couldn’t have given two shits about Deadpool, but things were starting to get annoying. First, Peter just decides to go completely off the grid every few days and then comes back like nothing ever happened. And now the fucking Deadpool is in his house, on his bed, in a _maid costume_ , propositioning him for a rebound. He definitely didn’t get paid enough for this shit.

//

_“Hey, kid, haven’t heard from you in a couple days. It’s a lot more boring in the lab without you hovering over my shoulder all the time. Just… call me back, kay?”_

     Peter rolled his eyes at the voicemail and tossed his phone across the room. Just because he felt like being alone for a couple days didn’t mean anything was wrong— well, something _was_ wrong with him, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to talk about it.

     He kind of had this cycle of staying at Stark Tower for a few days, nonstop playing videogames with Clint, forgetting to sleep, and harassing Tony until the intrusive thoughts came back and he would just lock himself away in his apartment for a week. Was it the most productive cycle? Oh, definitely not. Was he eating regularly? You wish. Had he stopped self-harming? Old habits die hard. But it got him through each day.

_Wow. I get turned down by one guy and I completely shut down. Good job, me._

     Peter rolled off his bed and set off to locate wherever his phone landed. Just because he felt like shit didn’t mean that he should treat Tony the same way— the guy had always been there for him, and now he was completely cutting him out.

_First I lie to him and now I do this? I really have spiralled out of control._

     He grabbed his phone off a mountain of unwashed clothes and tucked it into his pocket. Yeah, he definitely needed to apologize to Tony. Luckily, it was just starting to get dark out, so it wouldn’t have been too weird for Spider-Man to make an appearance.

     Peter opened the closet and stared at his suit for what could have really been hours. He hadn’t really gone out on patrol or anything since his fight with Wade. It felt… kind of nice to be getting back into the swing of things. But when he put it on and looked at how loose his formerly skin tight suit had become, his chest suddenly felt heavy.

//

     “Hey, Tony, I just came by to apologize for how shitty I’ve been recently. Wade and I kind of got in a fight, and then everything just fell apart afterwa...rds— what the fuck?” Peter stood in the doorway to Tony’s room, feeling a million and one emotions race through him at the sight of the billionaire trying to unzip Deadpool from a maid dress.

     Tony looked back and forth from one red clad person to the other before just sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “How do I always end up in the middle of this bullshit? Pete, look—”

     Peter clenched his fists so his nails dug into his palm. Hot tears soaked into his mask as he fumbled for the words to say. “…why?” Was all he managed out, his voice breaking.

     Wade stood there, struggling to decide on what to focus on. White and yellow were arguing on whether he should jump out the window to avoid the entire situation, the fucking maid dress that he somehow managed to get into was nearly impossible to get out of, Tony looked like he was about to have an aneurism, and most importantly— his baby boy looked completely and utterly broken. He couldn’t see Peter’s face under the mask, but he didn’t really need to.

     [He was _definitely_ not that thin last time we saw him. Think he’s been starving himself?]

     {See, I told you he would get upset if he slept with one of his friends. Move aside whitey, I’m the new smart voice in Wadey’s head}

     [Every time we’ve made Peter cry, it’s been your fault, yellow. If anything, you’re the insensitive voice.]

     “God, just leave me the fuck alone.” Wade snapped at the voices, forgetting that there were other people in the room.

     Peter sniffled and turned to storm out of the room. “Fuck you too, Wade.”

     The mercenary felt his heart drop. “No… I didn’t mean—” He swiftly cut himself off and rushed out the room to catch Peter by the arm. He was way too thin. “Look, can we just… talk or something? You don’t even have to talk— I know I do it enough for two, but can you just listen for a while?”

     Peter bit the inside of his cheek and pulled his arm out of Wade’s grasp. _God, he’s such a fucking ass… but maybe he’s ready to own up to the fact that he’s an ass?_ “Fine, but can we sit down for it? I feel… kinda lightheaded.” He said, trying to blink away the darkness creeping into the corners of his eyes.

     “Pete, you alright?” Tony was right next to him, prepared to catch the boy if he fell, but his voice felt like it was across the room.

     Peter felt like his head was swimming. “Yeah, yeah. I’m… fine.” He said before everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony is honestly just comic relief, but I love him anyways. My poor mans needs a nap. Peter needs some survivor's guilt therapy. And Wade really just needs a fucking hug.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a slut for comments so please tell me what you think. There's a 90% chance I'm updating this anyways, so let's see if we can bring that up to a 100 (idk thought, i kinda have depression and a habit of leaving things unfinished ((just look at the other story on this account jfc))


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